


Hunting the Supernatural? There's an App for That

by formalizing



Category: Supernatural
Genre: But Can Easily Be Read as Wincest, Implied Sibling Incest, M/M, Ostensibly Gen, This Fic Does Not Take Itself Seriously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-10
Updated: 2011-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:07:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27633860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/formalizing/pseuds/formalizing
Summary: In which Dean looks through Sam’s phone and Sam watches infomercials.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	Hunting the Supernatural? There's an App for That

**Author's Note:**

> Written nearly a decade ago, back when the 'There's An App for That' Apple slogan was still relevant. These were all apps actually available on the app store at the time.
> 
> Also, if you've somehow never seen the Magic Bullet commercial referenced, [here it is](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RtpKjgwi4Sc). You're welcome.

“Seriously? You need something to tell you… what does this thing do again?”

“It displays the beats per minute of a song so I can make playlists based on the pace I want,” Sam doesn’t even look embarrassed. “I use it for workouts, mostly.”

“Are you—it’s a _workout_. You turn the music up and go.”

“It keeps my pace steady,” he says with an unaffected shrug. “You ought’a try it. Then maybe I wouldn’t consistently outrun you.”

Dean scoffs and doesn’t even dignify that with a response beyond the quick flash of his middle finger, continues scrolling through, past all sorts of fruity apps for shit like Starbucks.

Snatching Sam’s phone off the bedside table and rifling through it started as Dean’s way of goading him into handing over the remote, but had devolved into actual curiosity when he saw that his brother’s phone had way more interesting and colorful icons than Dean’s own did.

“Why do you have four dictionaries?”

“I don’t, they’re all just from the reference section. There’s a standard English dictionary and a Latin one, a bible reference app, and— ”

“And Wikipedia Mobile, you academic heathen!” Dean crows, looking entirely too pleased. “For _shame_ , Sam. You went to _Stanford_.”

That finally gets him a flush of Sam’s cheeks.

“It’s just a starting point.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Sam rolls his eyes and goes back to flipping through the channels on the TV.

Dean breaks the silence soon enough.

“Navigation apps?”

It sounds almost accusatory, and Sam snorts.

“In case you haven’t noticed, 20-year-old paper maps with chunks missing and coffee rings all over don’t always get the job done.”

Dean can’t deny it, but he does grumble about tradition a bit, to which Sam sweetly replies, “Yes, dad.”

Dean scowls, but continues on into the utilities group, muttering, “Flashlight, alarm clock, unit converter… is that a dog whistle?”

“Werewolves.”

Dean stares a moment longer before nodding with a surprised arch of his eyebrows. Yeah, okay, he’ll admit that’s a nice touch.

“You’re a regular technological boy scout.”

Sam offers up the standard Boy Scout salute—because, hey, he _was_ one, once, for the course of one summer when dad needed an in for a hunt—and bypasses the mindless 80’s movie he happens to find. Even if _Sixteen Candles_ proves to be the only halfway decent programming they can pick up without shelling out extra for cable, he’s seen more than enough Molly Ringwald in his life.

“Dude, even your games are lame. Just a bunch of vocabulary quizzes and memory games. That’s fun for you?”

“I think I might have Words With Friends in there somewhere?” Sam offers distractedly.

“Laaaame.”

Sam doesn’t argue the point. Dean’s more of an Angry Birds kind of guy. Or maybe just old school Tetris and Pacman.

Dean bypasses Sam’s innumerable newsfeeds—you’ve got to stay up on current events pretty much _everywhere_ if you want to find their kind of work on a nation-wide scale—but raises an eyebrow as he reaches the medical section.

“Damn. How many medical apps do you think you need?”

Sam looks away from the Magic Bullet infomercial he’s stopped on—he’s seen “Mick and Mimi” mix up a full day's worth of meals, dessert, and drinks more times than he’d care to admit, but once he’s started watching, he just can’t seem to turn away—to give Dean an _are you serious?_ look, complete with furrowed brow of disbelief.

“We deal with creatures ranging from Casper right up to _gods_ for a living. As far as I’m concerned, there’s no such thing as too many. Half-price pain meds and a sewing needle aren’t the only solutions.”

“Symptom checker, drug and medication guide, Sanford guide to anti…microbial therapy, really? Anatomy guide, _homeopathy helper_.” Dean looks more and more like he’s made his point with each app he lists, and he practically sneers at the last one. He perks up a bit the more he scrolls through, though. “Ooh, muscle systems pro and the art of massage therapy. Where’s the happy ending app, Sammy?”

Sam tries not to be amused by Dean’s waggling eyebrows, but his lips twitch up in the beginnings of a smile before he can hide it.

He reaches across the beds and grabs Dean’s bare foot, dragging him away from the headboard by his ankle until he’s sprawled almost entirely lengthwise across the bed and getting a squawk of “Sam!” for his efforts.

Then Sam twists his knuckle _just_ right where the ball of Dean’s foot meets the arch. The phone falls from Dean’s slack fingers to the bed as he practically melts into the bedspread and his toes curl reflexively.

“ _Ungh_ ,” is his clever response and Sam smirks and does it a few more times in a neat line down his sole.

“If you keep that up, I swear I will get you the puppy you begged for when you were seven.”

Sam does, though he’s given up his hopes for a puppy. Being a little more loose-limbed might help convince Dean that they have room for a Magic Bullet in the trunk, though. It’d pay for itself in smoothies alone.


End file.
